The Beginning of the End (J. Grace)

XXVII: My family's back together

I was mad.

Gods, I was so mad at Mr D for doing this to us, and also felt so incredibly small.

And so, I was small and angry: a Chiwawa, if you will.

See, El, the Gods don't care about us. That's why we all die so young. We're just their pawns and they don't care – never have. Never will.

Luke, my brother, had told me this before, when I was very little. I remember the interaction clear as day. It was a year after he'd returned from that quest dad had set him on... the one he failed.

But dad must care, if we're all here at Camp Half-Blood. Together. He gave you that quest when you asked for one –

A re-used quest! It wasn't my own, not unique! And if dad cared... if he really cared, mum wouldn't be like she is now! We wouldn't have spent so long trying to find camp! If the Gods cared, Thalia would still be a girl!

The mention of Thalia's state had always brough tears to my eyes. The fear of my mother – the only real thing I remembered about her – was always there, painful, like a poorly healed wound that was ever so easy to re-open. Perhaps that's why I unofficially adopted both my children, perhaps it was the desire to be a better mother than my own which led me to make that wonderful decision.

I was soon broken from my thoughts when the giants attacked us. The picked up a huge fake mountain – the size of an apartment, no less – and hurled it at us.

Well, that's brough me back to reality.

I bolted, as did Lightning Boy and Seaweed Brain. The boys dived into the nearest trench while I zipped around to be behind the twins, out in the open. This fake mountain shattered into a thousand fragments above the two, spraying them with plaster and shrapnel. Not deadly, at least. But that's the only positive I can think of. I hope none of it got in their eyes.

The crowd jeered and shouted for blood and for us to fight! Fight! Fight!

Either these are brainwashed mortals, or ones who don't know this whole ordeal is actually real... or, come to think of it, they could just be really violent mortals. Those exist, too.

At the other end of the Colosseum, I could make out the two boys... laughing together. That couldn't be right. Nope, definitely laughing. Oh, Gods, now I'm scared. What are they planning? Least I'm on their team, I suppose.

The giants lifted another plastic mountain, probably assuming I had chosen the trench route as well, and remained poised, waiting for a clear shot. I can't let that happen.

Before I could decide on a plan as to how I could distract them for long enough for the other two to simulate a plan, they charged from the trench. What in Zeus's name were they thinking?

I mean, I don't like thinking much, but Jason seemed to quite like the hobby, just like Wise Girl, so... maybe it was Guineapig's plan, then. That would make more sense.

Sorry, Percy,

The giants raised the mountain a little higher between them, and I took instant action. I dashed up another of the fake mountains (seriously, why are there so many? There was seven before they destroyed one) and leaped across to Otis's shoulder, like an annoying mosquito in his ear, then drew my sword and stabbed at his hand.

Otis cried out in pain, releasing the mountain just as a gust of wind slammed the purple-haired giant in the chest. Water pipes below our feet contributed to Ephialtes's fall, then, because I had stabbed his hand, Otis lost his grip on the mountain and dropped it onto his brother. Only the snake-feet could be seen, but I knew that the giant was merely stunned, and would be up again soon.